Bela Sonata
by yorushihe
Summary: Have you ever heard of the ghost who lived at that old theater? It says that when you look really closely at one of the windows going through the streets, you may see it gazing at the sky. What would you do? If you was that ghost, how far would you go?


Holla, this is me! Hhehehehhe, this is kind of a serious story, so it differs from my style… I like humor, parody and general… yeah. And It is not a crossover! It pained me, but I just had to write this once I had the idea! T-T

Summary: After years being locked up inside an old theater, the ghost of Cecilia Clayford is finally ready to be free, even if it meant leaving all her life (or death) behind.

Disclaimer: True Blood belongs to C.H, so go away awful lawyers! I'm not making a penny out of this, so shoo! Though, I borrowed Harris' character to use them on my own devices… *crackles insanely*

**Bella Sonata.**

Chapter 01 - Her past, the theater's ghost -

Never once, on my existence, have I experienced Love, the kind of love a man has for a woman.

I died at the young age of seventeen, of Tuberculosis. At the time, my father didn't have the money to buy me penicillin, though, he stayed by my side until my very last breathing air. It broke his heart, I knew, because it broke mine as well, but there're nothing I could do about it, I couldn't push him away, I needed him, I needed his presence.

After a few weeks, I was finally free, at least I thought I was. Death can be a very strange thing, at the same time I was craving it, because of my suffering body, I was terribly scared of it, and I loved life too much to give it up.

It really didn't matter though; it ended up the same way.

We, my father and I, owned a theater at Dallas, the building was old and had many traces of the war still imprinted on it. Father tried to restore it to the best of his abilities when we bought it, but because of financial problems, he wasn't able to do as he wished.

Father was an old soldier, northern man, old romantic story that could only blossom to the purest of hearts.

My father, Henry Clayford, came to war, ready to kill, and ended up with a wife and a kid at a far away country farm. He didn't want to kill, but he was called to the blasted war and came, his lucky (or not, depend as how you see it) was that their regiment was attacked near a farm area, Henry was the only survivor. He spent days hiding, eating soil and roots and drinking from ponds on the ground.

That lasted until he was found by the daughter of the farm's owner. Her name was Heather Hillson, and she was the most beautiful woman Henry ever laid eyes on. He fell in love with her, and it didn't take long before she fell for him as well. Her father was against their union, because of Henry's a Northern man, but Heather didn't care, and consumed her love with him.

Resulting on her being pregnant.

Her father was irate, his daughter, his precious child united with a northern man was unforgiveable, so he did what any other man would do, he ordered Henry's killed.

The night Heather have birth, was the night the assassin sent by her father came to complete his orders, but instead of hitting Henry, he got Heather, since she was still weak from child-birthing.

He killed her, he killed her cold bloodedly.

Henry heard the assassin coming, scared, he took the baby from its nursery and hid it inside an old clothes' chest. Then, he went to save his wife, only to find her dead. He became desperate, and knowing her attacker might still be around, Henry had to come to his senses at least long enough to save his own life and the life of his baby.

The assassin came from behind Henry, shot him on his back. Henry, falling from the ground, managed to turn and grip his attacker's leg, making him fall along with him. Using the moment's opportunity, Henry grabbed the gun and shot his wife's assassin's head twice, killing him.

Ignoring the pain on his shoulder-blade, Henry half limped to the hideout of his baby, he lifted it and silently, as much as he could, he left the home he had bought to live with the woman he loved.

He managed to find an old war healer, who took care of his shoulder and offered Henry a job, Henry accepted it and moved to Dallas along with the healer, they're following the train's lines; the healer said "_Houston and Texas Central Railway_ needs hands, though; I will take care of the hard workers!" And Henry needed the money.

After five years, his baby grew to a little girl, her being named Cecilia Heather Clayford, honoring her dead mother. She was her father's life, and he always made sure Cecilia had everything she could ever want.

They didn't have a lot of money, but they lived with comfort enough.

Henry liked to show his little girl the world. Dallas was growing, and people moved to it every day, so he liked to stay upgraded. One night, he took his daughter to a concert, there're various shows, starting with an opera and ending with a piano sole.

That's the day Henry found out his baby's vocation to music.

Cecilia became enthusiastic about learning how to play the piano, and so Henry indulged her by buying her a real piano and having instructors tutor her on how to play it. At the age of seven, Cecilia was considered a music's genius. She could play hard pieces though, not as fast as an adult.

When she was but ten, the healer who helped Henry died from old age, and as it seemed, he had no family last, and left Henry and Cecilia as the heirs of his fortunes. It wasn't much, but it boosted their financial condition.

Henry thought over for days as to what to do with the money. He knew that the source of the money was the dead, so he was afraid of what it could bring to his family. He also knew of his daughter's love for music, so, acting impulsively, Henry used the money to buy an old theater.

Cecilia couldn't be happier. Though, they were considerably poorer than when they received the money, now they owned a theater. Soon, they were able to open its doors again, transformed into a show house, the theater was a success on its primer times with Henry at the head and Cecilia at the rear.

Despite being young, Cecilia observed and learned quickly, and soon was able to help her father to manage the theater. Sometimes, she would play, other times she would just appreciate the shows, and overall, she was a very happy little girl.

But that faze came and went as all others.

When Cecilia was seventeen, she fell ill, never to recover.

And that's how I came to be, I don't see myself as Cecilia, I am not her, though, I guess I am her on a sense, even if I refuse to acknowledge it.

And I never met a man's embrace; the only love I knew of was that of my father, and I never knew much on life itself. All I knew was what my father showed me, and what I saw at the old theater during my teen days till the day I died.

And I missed the music, the piano, the dance, the singing…

After Cecilia got sick, the theater fell from its fortune, her father withdrew from the world only to be devoted to his baby girl, and she never got to hear another note of sound again.

**XxxXxxXxxX**

I stared through the window at the street bellow. I knew it would happen sooner or later, though, I could never be prepared when I did.

They were going to demolish my theater.

The building was old and decrepit, the painting peeling and the walls stained with years after years of infiltrations. The roof risked falling any time and the old salon smelled of mold. But I still loved it with all my being.

I didn't care much about the theater's condition, no matter what happened to it, all I saw was the old days. The atrium filled with people, all the seats occupied, the music, the lights, the sound of the applauses and the whistles. The posters adorning the walls, I could still hear the laughs from the patrons every time we decided to have a comedy show.

I pictured my theater as it was on its old days with Cecilia and her father. Though, I still felt the trickling on my fingers every time I played the piano, even if I would never hear its sound again.

Incredibly enough, the only thing that kept intact from time's cluster was my piano; the one Henry bought to Cecilia, her, mine most beloved treasure.

After all the time I spent around here, watching the world follows its course, I had time to think about my prediction. I was a ghost, that was a fact, by why haven't I crossed yet? I wasn't much of a Christian child, though Henry went to the church regularly, then I knew it must exist some kind of afterlife… If it didn't, then what's the pint of preaching about heaven or hell?

I was stuck, I realized, stuck between the realms of life and death and I had no idea of how to get out of it and finally die!

So I settled to people watching. And I watched… people I knew walk through me, in front of the old theater, never even glancing at it, glancing at me, though, I saw them get old and then die, and that's how I knew the years went by. When one is dead, all time comes to a statement. It stops, just like a moment captured on a picture.

I learned of the great depression a few years after my death, homeless people invaded my theater seeking a roof, and I let them be, happy that there is life inside its walls, even if it was not what I was hoping for. A particular man got my attention. He had black skin and rough hair, a whitening beard and round beady eyes.

He knew how to play sax though, and that's what made me interested in him. He knew how to play the sax and would play it every night when he came into the theater seeking a shelter from the streets. His name was Bobby Hewed, and he was fifty four years old.

I would listen for him to play his sax, a style I've never heard before, perhaps it was new? Was I getting too old? I ignored my musings for the time being, I wanted to enjoy this new kind of music, I think he called it Jazz, Blues. I loved it very much.

I still wanted to play the piano again though, listening to his play only made my fingers itch to touch my piano.

Bobby came and went, as so many others, but I stayed, and the theater became even more old and decrepit.

And then one day, when I was people watching, a man came in front of the building and examined it, I thought he was looking for me, and I beamed at him, for nothing, he was an engineer, and soon I found out that he was planning on destroying my theater to build some kind of shopping gallery.

I couldn't allow it. I wouldn't allow it.

This theater is my home, my father's heirloom, his resting place, my resting place!

And my piano… I had to save it.

I knew it would happen sooner or later, the living ones would realize the theater was old and was a menace to them, it risked falling off at any harsh breeze, but I could care-less, I decided to show them how wrong they were and concentrated on what seemed like my aura, I felt it stretching and enveloping the whole theater, not only my piano and myself.

When the first man entered my theater after a few years, I allowed him out of curiosity, I knew one man alone couldn't bring the building down, so I just watched him carefully as he walked and looked around my place. He took a small, rectangular box out of his clothing and held it to his mouth.

"It is safe" He said to the box, and I was surprised when someone else's voice came through the box the man held. Was it a new kind of telephone? I knew of cell phones, I saw a few people using them to converse with other people during my people watching. "You can come in" The man added to the box, eyeing the lobby saloon with disdain "over" her whispered to the box, putting it away inside his pockets again.

He then started to pace, muttering one thing or other under his breath, but I didn't care, I was more interested on the new comes to enter my territory.

I felt like a poltergeist. Sure did.

"You sure it is safe?" asked another man. The first one nodded.

"It is" The second one looked skeptical, but the first man ignored him and kept his scanning around the theater's lobby.

"It looks as if it will come crashin' down on us any second" the second commented and I bristled. How dare he speak like that about my theater? Narrowing my eyes, I stared at their every move, like a hawk, I felt proud of myself.

"Ya, so lets do this quick" the first man said to the second as the two of them kept following inside the main atrium, the one with the stage. "We should've sent those bloody fangs down here" one of them muttered, I wasn't sure, though I soon found out as the second man responded.

"Its daylight still, you know those fuckers just get out night" he said, and my ears perked. I've heard about the night walkers before, I think I had one as a guest once, though, he slept the whole time, I think he just wanted shelter from the sun, though, and I didn't have much chance of getting to know him.

You asking why I wasn't squeamish? I'm dead! What should I fear? The unknown wasn't that unknown for me anymore.

"But it would be so much easier!" the first one kept on "And if this shit place fell down, it would be them, not us" the second looked irritated, but manage it.

"Yeah, right." Then they stopped talking altogether. They scanned the theater from head to toe, or roof to basement, anyway, I wasn't happy by the time they finished; I realized they're looking for spots to plant dynamites, to blow up my home!

I was one unhappy ghost.

But there is nothing I could do at the moment, just concentrate on keeping my theater together. And keeping an eye on them through a window.

**XxXxXxXXxXxXx**

Night came soon and I relished it. Night cooled the exposed bricks of the theater and refreshed me, and allowed me to see the stars, the only thing that kept the same ever since I died. Though, I was still huffed because of the two men browsing my home, but I was also giddy for some reason.

The humans knew about the night walkers, the vampires as they are known, so what did that mean? Have the vampires revealed themselves to the humans? Or had those two men known a vampire well enough to make him work for them? No… I dismissed that thought as soon as I came up with it, I couldn't believe a night walker would allow a human to control them.

I heard a creek. That snapped my attention back to my territory (again I sound like a poltergeist), someone invaded it, so I had to go see.

"This seems like a good place" It was a woman's voice, calm and with a funny accent, I didn't have much experience with the world as it was, but my guess was that she was Spanish or Italian, couldn't be sure.

"Yes, it does" A male voice, though, he didn't seem to be old, not a boy, yet not a man, his voice was raspy and it made my ectoplasmical body shiver, as strange as that seemed. And for once I wondered why the sudden interest on my theater! I huffed indignantly as I approached to spy on the two other ones who entered my space that same day. They're at the first lobby, still at the opened entrance (curse those men).

"The humans said it would be better to demolish it and reconstruct from the bases" I seethed in silent fury, oh, the nerve of that woman for even suggesting that on the first place!

"It looks a bit old" The man-child said eyeing his surroundings as carefully as those men never did. I was impressed, truly, that that guy not only glanced at my theater, but he seemed to absolve it.

"It doesn't" I muttered to myself just for the heck of it, I knew I couldn't be heard by humans, I tried to communicate with Bobby, but he didn't even acknowledged my existence.

Imagine my surprise when two sets of unnerving eyes settled on me. I gaped unlady-like not caring at all. I was being noticed for the first time after a long, long time!

"Who are you?" The woman asked crossedly, stepping in front of the man-child protectively. I beamed unconcerned at them.

"You can really see me?" I asked breathlessly. It felt so wonderful to have someone direct the word at your person after being ignored for such a long time! I felt as if I could explode out of sheer happiness.

"Yes, clearly" She snapped as my smile only lengthened.

"What are you?" The man-child asked me with some strange light inside his eyes, and for the first time I truly looked at them. They were both very pale, paper sheet pale, as the moon above us. They also had some kind of glow around them, their skin held this light, as if they were moons themselves.

"What are you?" I gave him back his question, but soon regretted it. What if they grew tired of me and left me alone again? Oh, I needed the contact, I felt lonely out of sudden. "I'm sorry, it was impolite of me" I smiled awkwardly.

"Not at all" the boy smiled at me softly, and I wondered how they saw me… Do they see me as a ghost? As in translucidal, or they saw me as I saw myself, with all my collors intact? "We are what you call vampires" And I and to laugh, so I did it.

"Oh, I'm so sorry" I managed between my fits of laughing, it felt so good! "I just never thought that I would meet a night walker this closely" I clarified, feeling as if I should. They both raised their eyebrow, it was amusing, though, I controlled my mirth seeing that I didn't want to offend them.

"What are you?" The woman asked again and I remembered they've already asked me that. I felt as if I'd blush, but dismissed it, I couldn't blush, but sure I remembered what it was like.

"I don't know what I am, though, not a poltergeist, seeing that I'm not used to scare people, but I guess I am a ghost" I smiled from ear to ear, eager to see their reactions. They looked startled, the woman had her eyes so widened, that I wondered briefly if the sockets wouldn't fall.

"That explain why you don't have a scent, that's why we didn't find you as we came in" The man-child wondered out loud and once again I was marveled at his voice.

"Well, I'm dead" I told him with a small nod. I didn't feel bad about dyeing, but I did feel remorseful. For Cecilia's father and for the life I could have had, if I didn't have died. "I'm not used to have people to talk to, most don't even realize I'm here" I beamed again. "You're the first ones in all my undead life that I got to talk to" The man-child's face fell, the woman grimaced a little, though, almost useable on her stony face.

"It must be lonely" The child-boy told me, he didn't pity me, that was obvious by his tone of voice, but I felt as if he understood what I've been through.

"It is, but what can I do? I died in here, I was attached to this place, to its memories, I couldn't leave it behind, though, I don't know why I still roam this earth, I should have crossed to the other side already" that was the most I've spoken on a VERY long time, and it was refreshing. I smiled at the man-child reassuringly. The woman watched me fascinated.

"It is the first time that I come across a being like you" She said to me airily, and I didn't know how to feel about her statement.

"I can say the same about you night walkers, and I'm here since way before the great depression" I told her back smiling slightly. I liked her, as I liked the man-child. She smiled at me.

"I'm older than that" I grinned at her to let her know I was amused.

"What's your name?" The man-child asked me, bringing back my attention to him, his smooth voice caressing my senses, I wondered for a brief moment about their relationship.

"I don't like to see myself as my human self, because I'm not human anymore, but my name is Cecilia" I smiled shyly at him, After all, he was still a male and I was a female, and he was attracting, maybe too much attracting to me. "You are?" I asked them both.

"My name is Godric" He smiled back at me; he motioned to the woman, who smiled also. "This is Isabela" I bowed, unsure if I would be able to touch them to shake their hands, and that seemed to work fine, they nodded back at me and I beamed.

"Godric, Isabel, It is so good to meet you!" And I meant it will every ectoplasmic particle on my being.

TBC! :)

I wanna know if I should continue this…  
This is but a presentation for Cecilia, next chapter will have Godric's p.o.v.  
I look forward to it XD It is fun to write in POVs. Anyway. x)  
Hope that is okay for a first chapter, I wanted to take this one fic seriously, so…

REVIEW PLEASE! \O/

And tell me what you think.


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